| Aran Ward Sell | Blog & Writing |

The End of the World

Let’s pretend it’s the end of the world
If the apocalypse came now, would you be happy with the money that you’ve earned?

Pretend it’s a chance for rebirth
All your greed can be unlearned

Pretend that Valhalla has burned
Your gods
Overturned

Let’s pretend it’s the end of the world

Dear sir;
Dear corpulent, ponderous,
Bloated, preposterous
Wealthy man breathing my air,
I would like to raise some objections
To the way you conduct your affairs.
Item one — a salient case
The way you kicked me in the face
As I came up the stairs
And all that I was looking for
Was a safe place to stand
Not a mountain-top like the one you’ve got
Just a piece of warm dry land
To keep me safe from drowning in…
…the deep blue bankruptcy.

But YOU!
You’d deny me even this,
You’d have me sit in the shallows and drink your piss,
Work all day to be paid by a blow of your fist.
Well — my lord — that’s not for me.

So let’s pretend it’s the end of the world
If the apocalypse came now, would you be happy with the money that you’ve earned?

Dear sir;
If the Judgement Day came, would you stand here to face it,
Or would you be running, hiding, fleeing, trying to erase it?
To escape from the wrath of the people like me
Who you’ve raped every day in the name of your greed.
And you might think you’re safe,
That there’s not many like me
But there are, we’re just too small for your eyes to see.

So I’ll give you fair warning:
START RUNNING. WE’RE COMING.
And get used to the fact
That we’re not turning back,
‘Cause we’re small — but we’re angry…
…and we’re hunting in packs.